


Spellbound

by starbear (panda_hiiro)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, M/M, Magic, Witches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-08-14 00:00:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16482230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panda_hiiro/pseuds/starbear
Summary: Takashi Shirogane - Shiro, to his friends - knows how to do magic.He knows how to do magicwell.Summoning a familiar should be no problem.Instead he ends up with Pike, a shape-shifting cat-demon who is less than thrilled about the prospect of working for anyone. But magic, they both learn, has a way of giving you exactly what you need - and in their case, that just might be each other.





	1. Chapter 1

The piece of chalk snapped neatly in half as Shiro drew the last line, a complex design stretched out in a sprawling circle across the worn wood floor. Not bad, for drawing with his left hand. It mirrored one printed on the open, yellowed page of his spellbook, and Shiro checked the diagram twice - even though he was confident in his work, this was the first time he’d performed a summoning spell, and magic such as this was temperamental, at best. He didn’t need to accidentally call forth some eldritch abomination from one of the levels of Hell. 

What he  _ needed _ was a familiar.

There were plenty of ways for a witch to find such a companion, and general consensus in most magical communities held that any magic-user worth their proverbial salt should have one. What form said creature took varied, of course, from person to person - cats and ravens being among some of the most popular, with toads and snakes being only slightly less so. Once, he’d even met a witch who lived near the sea and had charmed a dolphin into being her counterpart. For his part, Shiro had never really seen the need - he might have forgone the matter entirely, if not for the fact that, after moving back home, he’d discovered that a registered familiar was required for a magic license. So, he’d decided to let the Universe choose for him, and take whatever might come his way. 

Some kind of cat might be nice; he liked cats. 

Nervous energy buzzed in the air, a heavy and palpable sense of anticipation as he recited the first part of the incantation. A solitary candle sat in the middle of the circle; he reached over, still reading the spell, and lit the wick. It flamed to life, shifting through a rainbow of colors before finally settling on a blue hue and spitting thick, dark smoke that curled like tendrils in the air. In the small room, Shiro’s own shadow danced across the wall, jittery and trembling in time to the candle’s flickering flame. As the smoke coalesced, heavy and opaque, Shiro noticed another shadow join his own: long and thin, the pair of them moving like strange dancers around the room. He  _ felt _ the swell of magic surge in intensity, as if every fiber of his being called out to it, as if his very soul was calling out - and something was answering. 

The candle went out, and the room plunged into darkness. 

By the time Shiro managed to light the room again, the smoke had dissipated, leaving in its wake a vague scent of burning and sulfur. For one dreadful moment Shiro feared the spell had backfired, and was certain he’d summoned some sort of foul demonic creature; then, as his eyes adjusted, he saw…

Not a demon or some fell beast, at least. Okay, that was a relief. But instead of the small animal he’d been expecting, a young man stood in the center of the circle - tall, lanky, with close-cropped brown hair and tawny skin. Shiro was so shocked by his unexpected appearance that he didn’t notice at first the fluffy, twitching triangular-shaped ears protruding from his head, or the long, sinuous tail curling around his legs. Or the fact that he was unabashedly naked.

Right. 

When he’d thought about summoning a cat, this was definitely not what he’d been expecting. 

The stranger blinked, and looked around the room. His eyes shone with a preternatural glow - blue, reflective, like a cat’s. He seemed, at last, to take notice of Shiro, and leaned towards him with a leer. 

“Who the heck’re  _ you _ ?” 

“Uh,” Shiro managed, “I might ask you the same question?” 

“You’re the one that summoned me, bud. Where am I? And why?” 

“Arashiyama?”

“Do I look like a world map? Where the heck is that?” 

“Japan? We’re near Kyoto. Look, I’m afraid there might have been some kind of mistake here. I was trying to summon a familiar,” Shiro explained. “Is that...you?” 

“A familiar?” The young man’s ears flattened back against his head. So fluffy - Shiro’s fingers twitched against an instinctive urge to reach over and pet him. “So, you must be a witch or something, huh?” 

“Something like that,” Shiro said. 

“Hm.” The young man folded his arms across his chest, and looked Shiro up and down with narrowed eyes. “Well, you’re not bad to look at, I’ll give you that much. For a human, anyway. But, nah, I’m not about being anybody’s servant, sorry.” 

“That’s not how it works,” Shiro said, “A contract between a wizard and a familiar is a mutual bond…”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Summon yourself someone else, I’m outta here.” With a puff of smoke, the young man vanished, replaced by a small cat with short, brown fur and startlingly bright blue eyes. The cat flicked his tail, and spoke in the same voice as the young man. This all came as only a mild surprise to Shiro. “Smell ya later, dude.” 

It would have been easy enough to let him go, and leave it at that. Probably, that’s what he should have done - he could find something else. Try a different spell, maybe, or just fib on his license application. Who was going to check that he had a proper familiar, anyway? 

But something bothered him about this - magic, in general, had a way of being unpredictable, yet providing exactly what it was you needed. If this was what the spell had brought him, who was to say it wasn’t the ineffable powers of fate and the Universe pulling them together?

“Wait,” Shiro found himself saying, “Please?” 

The cat paused, and cast a dubious, expectant look at him.

“This might sound a little crazy, but what if you actually are meant to be here?” Shiro explained, “Done correctly, summoning spells are powerful. It wouldn’t have brought you here for no reason.” 

“And you’re sure you did yours correctly?” The cat’s tail twitched in an offbeat rhythm. “How good of a witch are you?” 

“I’m confident,” Shiro said, simply, without a hint of boasting. “How sure are you that this isn’t where you’re meant to be?” 

“Nice try, buddy.” The cat narrowed his eyes at him, but he hadn’t left - not yet. “Why should I hang around here? I’m a free spirit, man. I don’t have time to be running errands for humans.” 

After a brief moment of consideration, Shiro said, 

“I’ll make it worth your while.” 

“Oh? That’s a pretty big promise.” The cat’s ears perked up at that, an unsettling gleam in his eyes. “I am a demon, you know. What do you have to offer me that would be ‘worth my while?’” 

“What would you want? There must be something,” Shiro said. “Tell me what it is, and I’ll make sure you’re compensated fairly for your time.”

The cat regarded him suspiciously, tail swishing in an agitated rhythm. 

“Anything?” 

“Within reason.”  

Another puff of smoke and the young man was back again, a Cheshire-like grin on his face as he looped his arms and Shiro’s shoulders. Close - much too close, warmth radiating off of him, a smell not unlike that of a candle that has just been blown out lingering on his bare skin. 

“What if I said I wanted you? I might agree to be  your pet for a while if you let me do whatever I want with you later.” 

For one brief, insane moment, Shiro actually considered it - then he reminded himself that he was dealing with a  _ demon _ , and ‘whatever I want’ could mean any range of unpleasant things. He put his hands, squarely, on the young man’s shoulders and forced him back.

“No. I don’t think so,” he said. “Also, you might want to, um. Put some clothes on.” 

“Aw. You’re no fun.” The young man pouted, but clothes appeared on his body anyway - it was a strange outfit, and reminded Shiro vaguely of a brief-lived Dungeons & Dragons campaign he’d played in high school. “You sure? We’ll both have a good time, I promise.” 

“Nope, we’re not doing that. Think of something else.”

“Fine, okay. Look, I’m bartering away my freedom here, you’ve gotta at least give me some time to think about what I want.”

“Then, how about this,” Shiro said, “Let’s do a trial run. A month should be enough time to decide, right? I’ll show you what it is I do, and if you’re interested, you can tell me what you’d like in return before we make a formal pact. What do you think?” 

“A month, huh?” The young man gave him a skeptical look. “Well, I guess I’m not doing anything else right now. But I’m not gonna like it, I can tell you that right now. And we gotta lay down some ground rules first - you don’t get to boss me around whenever you feel like it.” 

“Fair enough.” Shiro extended his left hand in greeting. “I’m Takashi Shirogane, by the way. You can just call me ‘Shiro.’ It’s nice to meet you.” 

“Shiro, huh?” The young man stared at Shiro’s offered hand for a moment before accepting. “Name’s Pike.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro learns how to deal with a lazy cat as his partner, Pike learns how to brew potions, and they both take a ride together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out the fantastic artwork AniDragon did for this story! It's so adorable, and I'm so in love, plus she's been incredibly patient with me while I dragged my feet on getting this next chapter out. ;o; Thank you again!!!
> 
> http://anidragon.tumblr.com/post/181021199727/this-was-originally-done-for-the-vldhalloween2018

Shiro found the small, tawny cat sleeping in the path of a sunbeam, dust motes drifting lazily in the warm afternoon air over his curled form. A bundle of ruffled fur, with round paws and tantalizingly pink toes, long whiskers that twitched ever so slightly with the gentle rhythm of his breathing: it would have been absolutely adorable, if not for one problem.

This cat was the worst familiar _ever_.

“Pike.” Shiro fixed a stern glare at the slumbering feline, who didn’t even flinch at the sound of his voice. “Get up. You’re supposed to be working right now.”

The cat made a grumbling, mewling sound, and cracked one bright, blue eye open to stare up at Shiro.

“No,” he said, dropping his head back to the floor with a yawn.

“No?” Shiro nearly choked on the word. “Pike! You’ve been sleeping all day. Come on, get _up_.”

“Don’t wanna,” Pike said, rolling around and stretching out, nose to tail. “Cats are _supposed_ to sleep all day, you know. Brew your smelly potions yourself.”

“It’s Thursday.”

“So?”

“So, that’s a weekday,” Shiro said, with the sort of thin, exasperated patience one might reserve for a difficult child. “Four hours of work each day, Monday through Friday. You agreed to that.”

In theory, according to the terms of the temporary contract they’d drawn up, Shiro got one four hour shift a day from Pike during the week, and the rest of the time Pike was free to do what he wanted - most of which involved sleeping, or roaming around in cat form to antagonize the local dogs. In practice, Pike slept until noon, and spent a good portion of the rest of the day thinking up excuses not to work. This had gone on for over a week.

“Besides, you seem to have forgotten that brewing smelly potions is what we get _paid_ to do,” Shiro said. “So, unless you want to go hungry this week, you’ll get up and come help me.”

“Oh, you’re such a killjoy.” Pike stood, stretched, and yawned. “Ugh, fine, I’m coming…”

In a puff of smoke, Pike transformed, human in form save for the ever-present pair of fluffy ears sticking out of his hair, and the tail lashing behind him. He shrugged a blue robe on to cover himself, the fabric hanging loose on his lanky frame, and rolled the sleeves back as he sloughed after Shiro into the workroom.

The workroom was the largest room in the house, and despite Shiro’s best efforts and natural inclination towards minimalistic cleanliness, it had a perpetual air of organized chaos - half-burned candles littering the counters, pinches of herbs hung to dry from the ceiling, stacks of old books and scrolls laid out in careful arrangements. The house as a whole was small, situated in the countryside on the outskirts of Kyoto, and functioned as living space, work area, and storefront - he’d inherited it from his grandfather, who likewise had practiced magic there, as had generations of his family before him. In times past, the Shirogane family had made quite a name for themselves as witches and _onmyoji_ , but there was little call for magic in this part of the world now, outside of simple divinations and the most routine potions. It hadn’t been Shiro’s idea to settle down here and make his living performing small acts of magic, but the universe, he’d learned, doesn’t often take into account the plans people make.

A heady scent of incense couldn’t quite mask the malodorous stench bubbling up from the iron cauldron heating over a low fire in the stone hearth; on the nearby counter a book laid open to a spell with handwritten addendums scrawled over it, next to a neat row of herbs, dried flowers, and a series of jars filled with mysterious and questionable substances.

“Ew,” Pike said, face contorting, “It smells like something died in here.”

There were, in fact, several dead things in the room, all neatly arranged and stashed away in meticulously labelled containers. Shiro peered over the cauldron and gave it a brief stir with a long, curved wooden wand. The aroma was less than pleasant, to be sure.

“A little lavender will help that,” Shiro said. “Pass a pinch here?”

“Lavender. Right.” Pike frowned at the assortment of plants laid out on the counter. “Which one is that again?”

“The purple one. No, that’s sage. No. Nope, not that one either, no, it’s...yes, that’s it,” Shiro said. “Okay, bring it over here. Just a pinch - no, that’s too much, about half that…”

“Ugh! I don’t know what a ‘pinch’ is! What’s it matter, anyway?” Pike said, ears pressed back against his head. “All these weeds look the same to me. Does it really make a difference which one you use?”

“Plants hold very powerful magical properties. Each one is different. Substituting one for another could mean the difference between brewing a love potion and cooking up poison.”

“Uh-huh,” Pike said, clearly unimpressed. “And which are we doing today?”

“I’ll tell you after it’s done,” Shiro said. “You need to start learning this stuff, you know. Herbalism is an important part of potion making. If you stay on, you’ll need to know it.”

“Yeah. _If_ I stay,” Pike said.

For some reason, that gave Shiro pause. Of course, they’d agreed only to a trial run of this, and so they’d both gone into it with the understanding - indeed, the expectation - that at the end of a month’s time, they would both go their separate ways. It shouldn’t have been an upsetting thought, particularly since Pike seemed less than enthused about the work and had, thus far, proven to be little use to Shiro at all. And yet...there was something almost comforting, having him there, having _anyone_ there, even a lazy cat-demon. Shiro had been on his own for long enough that he’d almost forgotten what it felt like to have someone else around - to have the innate knowledge that the space around you was not empty. The thought of losing that made something in his chest ache.

He doubted, very much, that Pike felt the same.

“Why don’t you try it?” Shiro stepped back, suddenly, and offered the wand over to Pike. “Here. Give it a shot.”

“What? For real? Uh.” Pike stared at the wand, wide-eyed, as if it were a snake coiled around Shiro’s hand. “I dunno about that.”

“It’s fine, I’ll walk you through it.” Shiro paused. “If you’re scared about trying, though, it’s okay…”

“I’m not scared!” Pike swiped the wand, hastily, and stomped over to the hearth, fixing a defiant scowl at the cauldron. “It’s just a little magic, right? I’m a demon, I know how to do this stuff.”

“Do you?”

“Sure I do,” Pike said, rolling up his sleeves and twitching his fingers. “Stand back. It’s razzle dazzle time.”

“Okay, Mr. Razzle Dazzle,” Shiro said, gesturing at the spell book, “It’s all yours.”

Pike peered at the open book, eyes narrowed, brow furrowed in concentration.

“Uh, okay, so, next is a teaspoon of dried sage...uh-huh...then half a skin of dried toad, which, ew, that sounds totally nasty.” Pike mumbled to himself as he picked at the ingredients, handling each one with care, as if they might explode if he touched the wrong one. He picked up and sat down the bunch of sage twice, sniffed at one of the open jars, and muttered the incantation printed in the spell book with three different pronunciations, all of them wrong.

“Pike,” Shiro said, gently, “The potion will burn if you leave it simmering too long.”

“I know that! I knew that. I did. I was just. You know. Making sure I got everything first.” Hastily, Pike grabbed a few things off the counter, and hauled them over to the cauldron. “Okay. Here goes.”

Pike dumped the lot into the cauldron, said something vaguely Latinesque, and gave the concoction three counter-clockwise spins with the wand. He then yelped in alarm as the whole thing erupted into green fire and belched out a thick, black smoke that spread rapidly through the room. Shiro stepped in, quickly and without a word, taking the wand from Pike and making a complex series of gestures with it; a window in the room flew open, and a strong breeze coursed through the room, carrying the thick smoke out and up into the clear blue autumn sky. Pike coughed and slouched, ears pressed flat back against his head, tail dragging the floor.

“I meant to do that,” he said, in a small voice.

“I’m sure.” Shiro waved the wand over the fuming cauldron, and it gave a last gasp of smoke; looking inside, the remains of the potion were a sticky, green-brown mess caked to the iron walls. “It’s okay. We’ll just try again.”

Pike’s ears flicked forward, a note of cautious hope in his voice.

“You’re not mad?”

“No. Why would I be? Everyone makes mistakes, especially when they’re new at something.”

“Wow,” Pike said, in a dry monotone, “You sound like a talking motivational poster.”

“Oh, I’ve got plenty more where that came from,” Shiro said, with a cheeky grin. “‘Patience yields focus’ is another good one. You might take it to heart.”

“Ugh.” Pike rolled his eyes. “I do know magic, you know. Just not human magic.”

“I know. You’re really good at transfiguration. I’m sure you could handle some fire spells, too. Most _bakeneko_ are fire elemental demons.”

“I could. Sure. If I _wanted_ to.” Pike shuffled closer, sniffing experimentally at the air. “What’s so different about human magic, anyway?”

“I’ll show you. Let’s go over the basics today, okay?”

Shiro gestured at his materials, explaining with practiced patience the fundamentals of magic - how a wooden wand, liquid potion, iron cauldron, and burning fireplace represented the four elements; how helpful potions always had to be stirred in a clockwise direction, and harmful ones counter-clockwise; how the Universe sought balance in all things, and both Eastern and Western magic reflected that. By the time he was finished, the cauldron was clean, scoured out with a combination of magic and elbow grease, and Pike was stifling large yawns in the crook of his arm.

“Human magic is super boring,” Pike said. “Is this really all you do?”

“Sorry. You have to know the foundations before we can get to the exciting stuff.”

“Exciting stuff? Like what?” Pike perked up, tail twitching eagerly. “Curses? Hexes? Dancing naked in the moonlight?”

“Okay, first of all, there’s not much difference between curses and hexes, and I don’t do either,” Shiro said. “All witches swear to do no harm through magic. Good ones, anyway.”

“So there’s bad ones, then?”

An old pain throbbed down Shiro’s right arm. He flinched, and rubbed absently at it.

“There are. But there haven’t been any in this part of the world for a very long time, so you don’t have to worry about them.”

“Aw. Boring,” Pike said, deflating. “What about the dancing naked part? That sounds fun to me.”

“Yeah, we’re not going to do that.” Shiro paused, thoughtfully. “I have an idea, though. Something fun. I think you’ll like it.”

“Oh?” Pike’s demeanor brightened, ears perking up in alert. “What’s that?”

“You’ll have to wait and see,” Shiro said. “Let’s get through this potion first.”

“ _Ugh_ ,” Pike rolled his eyes in such a melodramatic fashion that the gesture seemed to echo through his whole body. “You are the _worst_.”

But despite that protestation Pike stayed attentive as he watched Shiro work, eyes gleaming with an intent focus Shiro had not previously seen. Without being asked he passed ingredients over to Shiro, his earlier hesitance replaced by a sort of eager anticipation. Curiosity - well, he was part cat, after all.

Shiro finished up by letting Pike stir the potion, three spins clockwise - Pike did so slowly, carefully, body tensed as if readying himself for another explosion. It didn’t come; instead the potion turned into a soft, purplish color, and a sweet scent of lavender suffused through the room.

“Nice work, Pike,” Shiro said.

“Yeah, see, human magic isn’t so tough,” Pike said, pleased with himself, as if he’d brewed the potion all on his own. Shiro let him have the moment to boast. “Can we do the fun thing now?”

“Well...maybe…”

“Hey!” Pike bristled. “You promised!”

“Technically, I made no promises,” Shiro said, grinning as he said it, though Pike seemed less than amused. Maybe it was too early in their relationship for teasing? “I’m just kidding. Help me finish cleaning up, and we’ll go. Oh, and you’ll probably want to change, it’s a little chilly outside.”

Pike shrugged, and with a small ‘poof’ of magic, summoned the strange, fantasy-like clothes he favored. Shiro had asked him about his outfit, shortly after his arrival; Pike had explained the look by saying he was certain this was the sort of thing all humans wore. Shiro hadn’t bothered trying to convince him otherwise.

Together they made short work of bottling the freshly-brewed potion and clearing the workspace, the light outside failing towards sunset as they finished putting away the last of the ingredients. Pike wiped his hands off and turned towards Shiro, frowning at the large, heavy broom in Shiro’s hands.

“I thought we were done?”

“We are,” Shiro said, “We’re gonna need this. Come on.”

Shiro grabbed a jacket as they headed outside, and shrugged it on. The chill in the air held the earliest promises of winter: crisp, filled with the sharp scent of changing leaves carried by a subtle breeze. A clear sky, orange and purple as the sun dipped low on horizon and the waxing moon rose to take its place - good flying weather.

Shiro straddled the broom, the heft of the handle a comfortable weight between his hands. Pike, lingering near the door, stared at him with a look of suspicious confusion.

“Uh...Shiro?” Pike said, “What the heck are you doing?”

“Come on.” Shiro motioned him over. “Get behind me, and hold on. Unless you’d rather go in your cat form, in which case, try not to scratch the wood up too much with your claws.”

“I still have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Just get over here,” Shiro said, and Pike finally complied, awkwardly settling behind him on the broom. “Hold on tight, okay?”

Pike muttered some snappy retort, but it was lost in the sudden ‘whoosh’ of air as the broom suddenly surged upward, carrying them high into the air. He let out an abrupt, undignified yelp of surprise, and clung to Shiro like a drowning man clutching at a life preserver.

“Are we...are we _flying_?” Shiro glanced back over his shoulder to see Pike’s face lit up in a look of wonder. “Are we seriously flying?”

“You’ve never done this before?” Shiro asked.

“No,” Pike said. “Woah. Okay, this is pretty cool.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” Shiro said, banking the broom into a sharp dive. Gathering speed, he wove expertly through the air, the countryside a blur in the distance below them. Pike’s initial shock wore off quickly, and soon enough he was crowing with exhilaration as they flew, urging Shiro on faster, farther, and even at one point insisting that they “do a barrel roll.” Shiro declined to perform that maneuver, but flew on farther than he’d intended, finally taking them down low over the river, their paired reflection a blur in the rushing water beneath them. The last, vibrant, dying remnants of sunlight played across the water, and on the shoreline faint green flickers of fireflies, leftovers from summer still clinging to life, pulsed in an indecipherable code. Shiro felt keenly aware of Pike’s weight behind him, thin arms wrapped around Shiro’s waist, their thighs pressed together in a tangle of limbs. Now was not the best time to think about the double entendre long associated with witches and brooms, but the unyielding firmness of the wooden handle between his legs conjured it up anyway, and Shiro felt a flood of warmth flush across his cheeks. To Shiro's relief, similar thoughts didn’t seem to be plaguing Pike at the moment, who was too busy skimming the toe of his boot along the water’s surface to notice much else.

“So? What do you think?” Shiro asked, glancing back at him, “This was fun, right?”

“Yeah, it’s okay,” Pike said, with an affected casual air, “Better than brewing potions, anyway.”

“You didn’t do too bad on that last potion. I think you were really getting the hang of it.”

“You think so?” Pike caught himself, cleared his throat, and continued. “I mean, yeah. Of course I was. I’m a natural.”

Shiro stifled a laugh.

“Yeah. ‘Razzle dazzle,’ right?”

“Right. Still…” Pike trailed off, as if considering something. “I guess I wouldn’t mind trying a few more. Just for practice. Not that I need it or anything.”

Shiro realized, in Pike’s roundabout way, what he was saying - he wanted to stay. At least, Shiro hoped that was what he meant, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask for clarification. This was enough, for now.

“Alright,” Shiro said, angling the broom upwards, and back towards home. “Then ‘practice’ starts tomorrow at 8 AM sharp.”

“ _Ughhhhhh_.” Pike groaned, then paused, unusually hesitant when he continued. “Hey, Shiro?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you, um. Teach me how to do this too?”

“You mean flying?”

“Yeah.”

“Sure,” Shiro said, expression gentling into a smile. “I’d be happy to.”

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween!
> 
> Like Shiro, I, too, like cats. I also like magic, and Shance, so combining all three of these things sounded top-notch to me. As always seems to be the case, this got a little out of hand, and wound up much longer than I intended, but hopefully I'll be able to put the next few chapters out soon. My partner in the Big Bang drew an absolutely adorable piece of art to go with a later chapter, and I can't wait to share it! EDIT: Here it is!!! It's so cute, go shower AniDragon with love! http://anidragon.tumblr.com/post/181021199727/this-was-originally-done-for-the-vldhalloween2018
> 
> Just a few notes:  
> \- Arashiyama is right outside of Kyoto, Japan. I picked it because when I visited there a long time ago, the scenery really stuck with me as a peaceful, beautiful place. I hope Shiro can get some rest there. 
> 
> \- Pike, in this story, is loosely based on a _bakeneko_ , which pretty literally translates to 'demon cat.' There are a lot of legends about _bakeneko_ in Japanese folklore, but general consensus is that they are shape-shifters and tricksters. Some legends suggest that house cats that live to a certain age will naturally become _bakeneko._ Is that what happened to Pike? Who knows!
> 
> \- Pike, in cat form, is an Abyssinian.


End file.
